


Affairs of the Heart (Robert x Reader)

by Aite



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, I just want everyone happy, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mary and Dadsona are friends sort of, Not Beta Read, One Night Stands, Robert saves the day, finding love again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-06 18:59:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11606919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aite/pseuds/Aite
Summary: AN: I did Robert's route right after Joseph's route and decided that he would be the MC's rebound right after the disaster with Joseph. I didn't even like Joseph all that much at the beginning of the game, so I was surprised when feels happenedY/N: your name, you, the readerThis work was written with the ideas that:You got the “good” Joseph ending (and were unhappy with it)This story takes place right after Amanda's graduationThe scene in the beginning of the VN where Robert invites you over has been moved to after the graduation, as a “rebound” for the MC after JosephI screwed up the timeline for story purposesI literally hammered most of this out in one sitting, so there are probably typos. I had no proof reader, so be gentle with critiques please.Enjoy~





	1. Prologue: Heartbreak

Edit: I have NO IDEA what happened with the formatting of this. As soon as I pasted it to AO3, things were missing and some sentences doubled. It *should* be OK now

 

Act I: Heartbreak

“We'll always have the Margarita Zone.”

You're pretty sure this is what heartbreak sounds like. If it's not, then why do you feel hot tears welling in your eyes? If it's not heartbreak, why is it hard to breathe? Why does the world feel like it's getting smaller, even though you're in a specious area?

These and other whys circle your head as you watch Joseph's form disappear into the crowd of party goers. You remain sitting under the cherry tree, afraid to stand for fear of your knees buckling under you.

'That's what I get for falling for a married man...'

The thought stops you. You hadn't realized it up until the night on the yacht, but you had fallen for Joseph. Hard and fast, and now you've crashed and burned. You thought of the night on the yacht, when you thought there was a chance for you... a shot at happiness.

'I guess I was just an affair, wasn't I?' The image of Joseph's peaceful sleeping face as he clung to you the next morning flashed through your mind, and that's all that it took. The tears that you had tried so hard to conceal pool in your eyes; they fall down your cheeks in big clumps, like warm, sad raindrops. You sob quietly into the palms of your hands, hoping no one notices your distress.

“...Dad?” Amanda's voice breaks the silence a few yards away.

You quickly brush the tears away and plaster a smile on your face. Your cheeks are still damp, and your eyes are brimmed with red, but maybe she won't notice. “Hey 'Manda,” you chirp, “what's up, kiddo?”

Amanda looks at you and shuffles her feet uncomfortably. She definitely saw you crying. “Are you OK? Your eyes are kinda...” she trails off.

Bless this girl. You couldn't have asked for a more considerate daughter if you tried. “I'm fine, Manda Panda. But sitting under this cherry tree has my allergies acting up. My eyes are watery, and my nose is stuffy...” You can't tell if she believes you or not.

When you feel her arms around you in a tight embrace, you realize she doesn't. Thankfully, she doesn't remark on the situation. She just let's you hug her til your heart's content.

Finally, you let go, a small but genuine smile on your face. “Thanks, kiddo.”

Amanda returns the smile. “If your... allergies ever start bothering you too much, I can help.” She knows what really happened, but she's willing to overlook it for now. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Amanda.”

You rejoin the party and socialize with the neighbors. If any of the dads notice the red puffiness around your eyes, they don't mention it.

Mary and Joseph are clearly avoiding you; they've only stayed this long because of their obligation to Amanda, and as neighbors. That's fine with you. If you don't have to see them, you don't have to pretend to be happy.

You and Amanda see the guests off as the sun starts setting. As you watch them file out one by one, a cold feeling settles into your chest and remains.

 


	2. Walk of Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: I took a few creative liberties with the Robert intro scene, but I hope I did it justice. Significantly longer than the last chapter c:  
> Bumping up the rating on this one because of adult themes ;3;  
> \--  
> You realize what he was not so subtly implying and furious blush heats up your already pink cheeks. You take a moment to consider. This isn't normally the type of thing you do, but then again, you don't usually get this drunk, either.

“Are you sure you don't need help cleaning this up?” Amanda gestures to the remnants of her graduation party.

You shake your head. There wasn't really much to clean up. The food had been devoured for the most part, anyway. “No, you go have fun with the Emmas tonight. You deserve it.”

“Thank you, Dad. Do you remember which Emma's house I'm staying at?” Amanda teases.

“Honey, I don't and will never be able to remember which one is which. Just text me when you get there, so I know you made it safe?”

Amanda agrees and scampers off, before you can change your mind about the clean up.

\---

Clean up didn't take long, as expected. The night was still young when you headed inside. What to do for the night? Amanda would be away, so that removed 'Paranormal Ice Road Truckers' from the list of to-dos. You could just go to bed, but it was 8 o'clock. Did you really want to turn in so soon? You felt tired, but it wasn't a lack of sleep that left you lethargic.

You settled on grabbing a beer from the fridge and watching Meat Hell. That was always entertaining.

Half an hour and a beer later, you had to admit you weren't paying attention to the show. You fidgeted, swapping positions on the couch constantly and drumming your fingers on the arm as you watched. You were feeling anxious. With no one around to distract you, unwanted thoughts had started creeping back into your head. You switched the channel, hoping to quiet them.

No dice.

In your mind's eye, you saw Joseph's apologetic face as he delivered the news to you. You heard the hitch in his voice as he apologized for hurting you. You felt the sadness creeping up on you again...

No.

This was not going to happen again. You weren't going to let that man turn you into an emotional puddle. Not this time. You had to go out, to get away from your thoughts. Being alone wasn't the best thing right now. You needed to socialize, to move, to forget.

You grabbed your 'going out' jacket, wallet, keys, and headed out. You weren't sure where to go—what was even open at this hour?

You wander for a bit, until you see the neon lights above your local dive, Jim & Kim's. Which, as you were disappointed to find out, was run by neither a Jim or Kim. You shrug, thinking this was a good a place as any to start off the night. Once inside, you took a look around the little pub; seeing if there was anyone you would (or wouldn't) want to run into. The coast was clear; you didn't know most of the patrons in the bar tonight, and a majority of them were focused on the sports match playing to even notice you. You find the least objectionable stool at the bar and have a seat.

“What'll it be?” Neil asks, eyeing you when you park in front of him.

“I think I'll just have a--”

“He'll have a shot of whiskey,” the voice comes out of nowhere, along with the hand on your shoulder. “Actually, make that two,” the voice adds with a hearty chuckle.

You snap you head around to see Robert standing behind you. “Hey Y/N,” he grunts. Without saying anything further, he plunks down on the bar stool next to you.

“Hey Robert,” you greet, as confidently as you can manage with your heart trying to hammer itself out of your chest.

As usual, you don't really get a response. He just hands you the shot of whiskey and downs his in one go. He motions for you to do the same. You slam the drink; and it burns all the way down. You give a few undignified coughs, not having an easy time of it like Robert.

After a few minutes, Robert breaks the silence. “What brings you here?”

A valid question. You didn't exactly make a point of visiting bars in your spare time. This was only the second time you'd stepped into Jim and Kim's since moving to the Maple bay.

After a moment of deliberation, you settled on, “I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts.” Hopefully that answer would suffice—you really didn't want to get into that discussion when you were trying to forget.

Robert seemed to sense your hesitation and accepted your answer with a nod. He ordered two more shots of whiskey and passed one your way. “Don't wanna be alone, eh? Then let's drink together.”

And drink you did. Against your better judgment, you and Robert had gone shot for shot, with smattering of conversation in between. You had lost track of exactly how many shots you had... but judging by the the way your vision fuzzed when you turned your head too fast, it was way past your limit.

Robert seemed to be feeling similarly; a ruddy pinkness colored his cheeks, and he was beyond using his inside voice while cheering at the game. He slammed his shot glass a little too forcefully on the counter when the game ended and his preferred team emerged victorious. “I KNEW THEY'D WIN!” he hollered.

“PLEASE BE QUIET,” you shushed in a similarly disruptive tone. That earned you a few looks from the other patrons.

Robert pays the tab and stands up. “Let's get outta here,” he said a little more quietly. “Come on, Y/N.”

“Wha, me too—?” you begin, but Robert grabs your hand and silences the thought before it ever leaves your mouth. Stumbling, the two of you make your way out of the bar and into the night air. Somehow, you manage to make your way back to the neighborhood. It took a few tries, and you had to lean on each other to prevent one another from stumbling, but you made it. You helped Robert up the stairs to his house before turning away. You're stopped by a hand gripping your own.

“Hey, do you wanna come in?” Robert asks, releasing his grip.

It takes you a minute to process. “What?”

“Well, are we gonna do this or not?” Robert gestures to his door.

Oh. OH. You realize what he was not so subtly implying and a furious blush heats up your already pink cheeks. You take a moment to consider. This isn't normally the type of thing you do, but then again, you don't usually get this drunk, either. A few pros and cons swim through your mind, but you're not really able to focus on them. Instead, an image of Joseph's smiling face enters your mind. You're thinking too much.

Shoving the image out of your mind, you turned back to Robert. “What do I have to lose?”

The two of you barely make it inside before you start exploring each others bodies. Robert slams the door with his foot and smothers your lips with hot, insistent kisses. While you're still propped against the door, he begins to move down from your lips to your neck. One finger slips into the gap between your hip and your underwear, teasing the sensitive skin just below the cloth.

“Robert,” you gasp, trying to find coherent thoughts between the alcohol and your imminent arousal, “not here...” you point upstairs. “Bed,” you manage to convey your meaning in under five words.

Robert acknowledges your request with a grunt, and the two of you usher upstairs. You stumble a few times in your haste, but eventually make it to Robert's spacious bed. The kissing resumes with fervor, and Robert finds the belt to your pants and undoes it with haste. You do the same to him, a little clumsier, perhaps, but you get the job done. The underwear follow suit, Robert practically ripping it off of you to get to the smooth skin below.

You pause to take in the view of each other. As you look over Robert, you feel a rush of embarrassment flood over you.

“This isn't something I usually do...” you confess. But you wanted to do it. No matter how you'd try and play it off, the organ between your legs was much more honest than you were.

“Do you want to stop?” Robert offers, his voice husky with desire.

Looking at him, notice that Robert also has a very honest organ. One that doesn't want to stop. Neither do you.

You answer him by wrapping your arms around his neck and plant a fervent kiss on his lips. You want this. You need this.

Rough, calloused hands grip your thighs, a new, but not altogether unpleasant feeling. It's a different feeling than Joseph's smooth, manicured fingers—

NO.

'Don't think of him,' you scold yourself, 'just enjoy this.'

You feel Robert's teeth pinch the skin in the crook of your neck, and that's all it takes. You close your eyes and finally submit to the pleasure.

\----

You awake alone several hours later. In an unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar room, and with a pounding headache. You sit up, peer around the room, and try to put together the pieces of the previous night. A blush streaks across your face as you remember the details.

It's 9 O'clock the morning after, and Robert is nowhere to be found. What's the etiquette here? Should you leave quietly? Should you at least wait to say goodbye? You didn't know. You'd never had a one night stand before.

A pang of sadness grips your heart. At least, you'd never had an intentional one night stand before.

Robert returns a few minutes later to find you chasing down your pants. How had they even gotten on the lamp? He's already partially dressed and trying to avoid eye contact. It's clear what the etiquette is here.

“Thank you for last night...” you murmur, slipping on your last article of clothing.

Robert nods. “Let's do it again sometime,” he says with a grin.

The two of you part hastily, and you find your way out of his house. You try to look casual as you strut across the lawn to your own home, but you're sure it's not working. Anyone who had seen you the day before would know you were doing the walk of shame this morning. Your hair was a mess, your shirt was crumpled (and inside out), and your belt was somewhere at Robert's house still . You just hoped no one was out and about to notice.

You made it back home without having to speak with anyone, thankfully. You might have seen the flutter of a curtain as it closed in Joseph's house. Maybe you were imagining it.

A quick look in the driveway told you Amanda wasn't home yet. That was good. Now you'd have time to shower and be a person before she got back.

Grabbing a fresh set of clothes, you made a beeline for the bathroom. You would definitely need an extra long soak this morning; your muscles were screaming in pain. You hadn't felt this wrecked since that treadmill incident with Craig.

Before climbing into the shower, you took a look in the mirror. In the crook of your neck sat a large purple bruise. A plum beacon that would broadcast your shame to the entire world. What would you tell Amanda when she saw it? There was definitely no hiding the mark.

You sighed and slipped into the steaming water. You'd figure that out later. When your muscles finally stopped protesting. Lathering the soap across your skin, you noticed that aside from the pain, you also felt highly refreshed. Invigorated, even.

You wondered why that was.

 


	3. Left on Read

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hopes of at least clearing the air and getting your belt back, you messaged Robert. In words you hoped were written better than in your head, you extended an invitation of friendship. You asked how he was doing, inquired about your belt, and casually suggested the two of you meet up again. You hit 'send' and waited comfortably in your chair for his response.   
>  And waited.   
>  And Waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updates, I've been sick and busy ;3; Neither of those things make a productive writer, sadly. 
> 
> This one's a little short and I have no proof-reader, but I hope you enjoy it all the same! The next update will be significantly longer and cover your first date with Robert!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, Kudos, and support everyone!

“There,” you hum, looking at yourself in the mirror. “You can't see the mark at all. Amanda will never know.”

  
That was a bold-faced lie. Even with a high-collar polo, the purple abrasion was plain for the whole world to see. No matter what you tried, you just couldn't completely cover the mark.

  
Time to face the music.

  
You would go about your day as if nothing happened. If no one addressed the mark, you wouldn't either.

  
You were just adding the finishing touches to your world-famous omelet when Amanda walked in.

  
“Yo Pops, you home?” she called.

  
“In the kitchen, Panda,” you shouted back.

  
“Oh, that's never a good place for you to be,” she teased, following the scent of breakfast to you. She plopped her overnight bag on the floor next to the table and stood by you, watching you add a liberal amount of cheese to the top of the omelet.

  
“If you don't like my cooking so much, I guess this delicious, extra cheesy omelet will go to waste,” you sigh, making a motion as if to toss it in the trash.

  
“Wait,” Amanda protested, grabbing the handle of the frying pan, “I think these might be edible after all.”

  
You chuckle. “Alright, alright, you make a compelling case.” You place the omelets on two plates with a generous serving of hash browns for each of you. “Brunch is served.”

  
The food did look pretty good, actually. No lumps, no accidental pinch of salt, the edges weren't burned, and the center wasn't raw... the omelets could potentially be your crowning achievement in the culinary arts.

  
Amanda graces you with a light round of applause before stepping up to the counter. She opens her arms to give you a congratulatory hug.

  
You pull Amanda in close, grateful that she has yet to outgrow hugs from her father. You give her a tight squeeze. “I love you, Panda. Welcome home.”

  
“I love you too--” Amanda stops short. “Hey dad, what's that on your neck?”

  
A cold wave washes over you. She noticed the mark. “What do you mean?” you inquire casually, hoping to play it off.

  
As usual, your daughter is too smart for diversion tactics.

  
“I mean, where did you get the monstrous hickey?”

  
You're not sure whether to be proud of your daughter's powers observation, or to curse them.

  
“It's...” you're unable to think of an appropriate excuse. You were always the worst liar.

  
“Just please tell me it didn't come from Mr. Christansen,” Amanda sighs. “Please tell me you didn't go back to him.”

  
“Amanda, where did you get the idea that I would be interested in a married man anyways?”

  
That one hurt just to ask.

  
Amanda looks nervous again. “Because I know he's the reason you were crying yesterday... you weren't exactly subtle about your feelings, Dad.”

  
She knew the whole time, didn't she?

  
You run your fingers through your hair and sigh. “I promise, this has nothing to do with Joseph. I have nothing to do with Joseph, anymore, OK?”

  
Amanda nods. “Good.” She pauses for a moment. “Then I won't ask you about the mark anymore. But I have to wonder... is it serious?”

  
You think back to your time spent with Robert. “No, I don't believe it is.”

  
Amanda nods. “Please take care, Dad. I worry about you, too.”

  
You ruffle her hair. “Don't worry, your old dad is smarter than you think.”

  
“Debatable,” Amanda comments, before revisiting her omelet.

  
The two of you dig into your brunch with gusto, and the conversation is dropped.

  
\---

  
If you thought you were going to keep that hickey secret from anyone, you were wrong. Incredibly wrong. The next few days were jam-packed with outings; events ripe with opportunities for curiosities and jokes from your fellow dads.

  
On your run, Craig teased you relentlessly. He never did figure out who the culprit was, though.

  
During tea with Damien, he couldn't stop gazing at your neck and blushing. Although he clearly wanted to ask about it, you were thankful he was a gentleman and refrained.

  
When you dropped by the Coffee Spoon, Mat spent a fair amount of time trying to describe the color of the bruise with song title. He had it narrowed down to 'Purple Passion' or Purple Kisses. You punched him in the arm playfully before taking your Chai Antword on the go. You knew it wasn't the coffee making your face heat up.

  
While fishing with Brian, an activity that was already uncomfortable for you, he decided to have a competition with you over who had had the most hickeys in their life. The only fish you had wrangled slipped from your grasp. Another thing that Brian would best you in.

  
Finally, you got to park your butt on your couch and relax. You opened the book Hugo had lent you; you were surprised to find several passages marked detailing the character's romantic trysts. Described in more detail than you really needed.

  
'Et tu, Hugo?' you sighed, and put the book on the coffee table. You'd get around to that another time.

  
Just as you were contemplating how you were going to spend your evening, your computer dinged, alerting you to a new Dadbook notification. You hopped into your desk chair and scrolled through your messages.

  
Your heart quickened its pace when you saw the sender's name. Joseph Christiansen.

  
What could he want with you, of all people?

  
You read the message, trying to ignore the hammering of your heart. It had betrayed you. You were more than happy to see his name attached to the private message, even after the fiasco at the graduation.

  
Joseph's message to you was courteous and concise. There was no trace of guilt or indecision like at the graduation. In the message, he greeted you warmly; as if nothing was wrong. He wished you well, hoping that you would be able to hang out again soon. He also mentioned an upcoming church function and hoped you'd be in attendance. There was no mention of your history together, no apology.

  
But then, why would he bring your past relationship up? What was there to say that hadn't already been said? What more could you hope for?

  
You stared at the text a minute more before closing the dialogue box. You couldn't handle it—not yet. The wound was yet too raw. You've had a few days to put yourself back together, but by no means were you ready for this. You were not ready to smile and act like nothing had ever happened between you two.   
For now, you needed time to heal. For now, you were going to, as Amanda put it, leave Joseph “on the read”.

  
Instead, your cursor drifts over Robert's profile on Dadbook. You hover over the 'direct message' button, debating on whether or not to open a chat. On one hand, you still felt a little shame after waking up in his bed the other day. On the other, you enjoyed your time with Robert (what you could remember) and were interested in getting to know him (with his clothes on). He was one of the few dads in the cul de sac you didn't have a weekly activity with. You would prefer to fix that. Plus, your belt was still somewhere in his house. You were going to need that back.

  
In hopes of at least clearing the air and getting your belt back, you messaged Robert. In words you hoped were written better than in your head, you extended an invitation of friendship. You asked how he was doing, inquired about your belt, and casually suggested the two of you meet up again. You hit 'send' and waited comfortably in your chair for his response.

  
And waited.

  
And Waited.

  
Twenty minutes go by and you start to feel restless. Problematic thoughts began to swirl about your brain. What if he was ignoring you? What if he wanted nothing to do with you in the light of day?

  
Fighting back a wave of dejection, you wander over to Youtube and look up cat videos. Maybe Robert hadn't gotten the message yet. Of course, the little green check next to your comment let you know that you were fooling yourself. He had left you on read.


	4. Need to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I invited Mary along,” Robert says, “I figured we needed a drinking buddy.”  
> You feel a cold sweat down your back. This drink would probably be your last. 'Goodbye, sweet Amanda. I hope Craig lets you have pizza sometimes...'  
> “And, I figured you two needed to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert and Dadsona's first date, part I. I was going to make this a longer update and encompass the whole date, but a lot happens in this chapter. I thought it might be more easily digested in smaller parts. 
> 
> A/N: I promise I'm not leading you all down the path of despair. This is NOT Robert's bad end. I've never actually gotten Robert's bad end? I didn't know about how it played out til after I started this fic, and honestly, I'm a little scared about how accurate my writing is to how the route plays out. Hickeys and all ;3;  
> I had to Youtube the bad end because I was too much of a wimp to make my Dadsona cry again.  
> Also, thank you for all the kudos and comments... It really means the world to me to read them!  
> \-----

You were just getting settled for the night when your computer informed you of an impending Dadbook message. Or several?

You hop over to your computer, still in your night wear, and click the little envelope on Dadbook.

From: Robert Small

Message:

y **ou up?**

w **yd?**

You're slightly taken aback by the sudden influx of messages. You hear nothing all day from the man, and when he chooses to reply, he does so in spades. The newest message was dated just a few seconds ago.

You respond with haste, but not TOO hastily. It wouldn't do to make him think you had been anticipating his messages or anything. You ask yourself, WWAD, or what would Amanda do? How would Amanda handle this one? She would probably tell you to play it cool.

Into the text box, you type 'just chillin' and hit send.

Honestly, is 'chillin' even a thing anymore? Who says that?

You do, apparently. You don't have to wait long for his reply.

In true Robert fashion, he sends you another message without capitalization or punctuation. Short, sweet, and to the point. And slightly infuriating to the man in you who loves word jumbles and proper grammar.

From: Robert Small

**you wanna grab a drink**

It's pretty late, and you have a date with some late-night junk television, but you figure you could cancel just this once. Netflix and Hulu would understand.

'Play it cool, Y/N,' you quietly remind yourself as you type up your response. You ask for the when and where, and get the expected 'Jim and Kim's' as the response.

You don something that resembles clothing and inform Amanda that you'll be staying out late.

“Lock the door behind me,” you remind her.

“I know Dad,” she acknowledges, barely glancing up from her phone.

“Don't stay up too late,” you add, “it's a school night.”

“Does that mean I can't throw a wild house party?” she inquires. “My friends are going to be so disappointed, I already sent the invites.”

“Amanda Ann--” you begin, wagging your pointer finger in a threatening-but-not-really gesture.

“Relax Pops,” Amanda hums, “I'll keep the place in one piece while you're gone. Go have fun.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you say with a smile. You make sure to grab your keys and jacket. “There's leftover pizza in the fridge if you get hungry, or I can leave you some money for takeout?”

“Dad, go,” Amanda sighs with a roll of her eyes, “I'm sure I can manage to feed myself for one night.”

“Alright, alright. I know you're a big girl now.” You do one last check to make sure you don't forget anything important. “Stay safe. I love you, Panda.”

“I love you too. Go have fun.” She smiles at you and you're pretty sure there can't be a better daughter on Earth.

When you arrive at Jim and Kim's, it doesn't take long to spot Robert looming in the back of the establishment. You wave casually and walk over, trying not to look as nervous as you feel.

“Hey, how's it going?”

“Hey buddy,” Robert acknowledges.

You're terribly relieved at the open and not-awkward we-had-sex greeting he gives you. You know the one. The kind where they don't look you in the eye in public and everything is uncomfortable.

Your relief flies out the window when a voice from behind you says, “Ahoy there, skipper.”

“M-Mary!” you yelp, unable to hide your surprise. She was the last person you wanted to see right now. There was no playing this one cool.

Mary snickers. “Easy, there, kiddo. I'm not going to bite you.” She sidles up to Robert and regards you with amused eyes.

Meanwhile, your heart is trying to pound out of your chest.

“I invited Mary along,” Robert says, “I figured we needed a drinking buddy.”

You feel a cold sweat down your back. This drink would probably be your last. 'Goodbye, sweet Amanda. I hope Craig lets you have pizza sometimes...'

“And, I figured you two needed to talk.”

Robert's statement snaps you out of your reverie. “W-what?”

“Don't play dumb,” Robert scolds, “I know what's up and I think you two need to talk.” He gestures for you to sit at the table, where there are drinks already waiting for each of you.

You sit at the table, feeling as nervous as the day you proposed to Alex, except without the giddy excitement. This was just torture.

Mary goes to speak once you're sitting across from her, but you interrupt with a slew of apologies. “Mary, I'm sorry,” you squeak, “I-never-would-have-done-that-if-I-had-thought-you-two-were-staying-together.”

You need a minute to catch your breath after expelling that word vomit. So much for playing it cool.

Mary's face goes from surprise to amusement as soon as she processes your statement. “Holy fuck,Y/N, relax!” she snorts. “That's what I wanted to talk to you about... The situation we're in? It's not your fault. Not entirely, at least.”

You swallow your shot a little harder than you mean to, and it burns all the way down. Mary's not mad? How was that possible. You're not sure what to say, so you nod, hoping she'll elaborate.

“I'm not saying you're entirely innocent here, either,” Mary adds, taking a sip of her drink, “but you're not entirely to blame. Our marriage was going down the drain way before you stepped in. Your cute ass just accelerated it.”

Cute ass? Was Mary trying to chastise you, or compliment you? You couldn't tell. You looked down at your empty glass, wishing more would magically appear. “Mary, I--”

“I'm not done,” Mary interrupts, and you close your mouth. “What happened between you and Joseph? What you did? That was really shitty. Really shitty, but I understand why you did what you did. We're all at fault for this predicament we're in; we all had a hand in the outcome.”

You let Mary's words sink in a moment. They were very true. “We all could have said no, or stopped to think, or considered the other party's feelings...but we didn't.” You didn't really stop to consider Mary. While at the time you thought you were doing the right thing, you realized now that you were just being selfish. You were only thinking of what you wanted. You wanted to touch Joseph, to love him, to rescue him from his loveless marriage... It never occurred to you that there was someone else who needed rescuing.

“No, we didn't,” Mary agrees. She looks like she wants to say something else, but disregards it. Instead, she adds, “despite all the drama and bullshit, one good thing came from this.”

You perk up a little. Something good had come from all the betrayal and heartbreak?

Mary takes a sip of her drink. “Thanks to you, my husband finally got the guts to talk about our problems instead of running away. We spoke to each other like human beings for the first time in years. And while we're not perfect, we're trying?” She offers. “We all have our own vices. Some are easier to work through than others. I'm honestly not sure if what we have can be saved, but I finally see something worth fighting for.”

While you're understandably upset with how things ended with Joseph, with how he dumped you so cruelly, you're actually kind of glad at the moment. Mary and Joseph had a fresh start, the potential for them both to achieve the happiness they were seeking. And so desperately deserved. That thought, combined with everything else that had been weighing you down, was enough to make you cry.

Sure enough, warm tears began forming in your eyes.

“There's no need to get all weepy on me,” Mary said, her usual snarky smile returning. “We're all going to be seeing each other a lot, and if we want to keep the peace in our little cul-de-sac, we'd all better try and get along.”

You nodded, a small smile forming on your lips. You were trying your hardest not to cry.

“Agreed,” Robert, who had been silent the past few minutes, chimed in. He ordered another round of drinks and had them brought to the table. “Now, let's have some drinks and cut out this emotional shit.”

And so you did.

 


End file.
